


Coming Home

by Gilli_ann



Category: Brokeback Mountain (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Joyful, M/M, Nature, Post-Canon, Reunion Sex, Spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:10:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4001914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilli_ann/pseuds/Gilli_ann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ennis returns to his Jack at last, on the mountain where they belong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: They belong to Proulx, Ossana, McMurtry and Focus Features. I make no profit and intend no disrespect. I merely find joy in thinking and writing of Jack and Ennis and their lives. 
> 
> This fic is written in the POV of an OFC who is - hopefully - too restrained to be considered a Mary Sue.  

They’d been riding since early morning. Lisa turned in the saddle and surveyed her straggling group of riders, all of them tourists doing the “back to nature” kind of horseback vacation that had become so popular lately.  
   
She would bet every last one of them regretted that choice now, and secretly longed for a relaxing stint by a Mexican resort poolside, cool beer in hand. Even though they all were sufficiently fit and reasonably skilled riders, horseback mountain trail hiking could sometimes be tough going.  
   
And tough going was what they were experiencing this time around. Five days into the week-long trip, and they’d hardly seen a ray of sunlight. Heavy clouds swept the mountains and covered them like grey shrouds, obscuring the beautiful scenery and breathtaking vistas that were the main lures of this strenuous mountain trek. 

Not only was the visibility poor, but it had been raining non-stop for days. Wind gusted along the mountain slopes, driving chill stinging rain into the riders' faces and under their rain-gear. They were cold, wet and despondent, and the mood was shared by their horses and the pack mule, plodding along dejectedly. The normally so varied and rich fauna was notably absent, too - they’d not seen a single elk, nor any coyotes.  
   
Yes, the weather was getting to all of them, even to her. Looking out under her dripping hat-brim she could not remember such a consistently miserable time of it for any of her summer treks as ranch-based mountain guide.  
   
Her group back there was riding in single file, heads down. As far as she could hear, nobody was talking or trying for a song or a joke to lighten the mood. And if they happened to be murmuring curses at fate and their own foolishness, they luckily were too far away just now for her to hear it.  
   
She crested the hill, intentionally well ahead of her group, halted Thunder, brought out her binoculars, and carefully surveyed the landscape ahead. This part of the mountain, the grassland down-slope and the river running through, was certainly bear territory. The only thing missing now would be for her group to come on a disgruntled bear unawares – a mother bear with cubs would be just the thing. She sure didn’t want to chance that, couldn’t risk a horse being spooked – or worse. Though they were trusty solid horses, the riders were not all of them sufficiently experienced for such an encounter. There was no knowing what might happen.  
   
Down below the mountain meadows glistened dully in the rain, sloping gently towards the narrow river running through the valley. On the other side, tall pines stood silent sentinels in a quiet and seemingly deserted landscape. All clear, as far as she could see. Nothing moved.  
   
The place was a well-known camp site, used by herders and forest service alike for many years, but she and her group were not planning on stopping here. She intended to press on for at least another hour’s ride yet, to her regular site further down the mountain.  
   
Lisa remained where she’d halted, wiping rain off the lenses while waiting for her group to catch up with her. She patted Thunder’s neck and murmured a couple of softly encouraging words, mentally going over her plans for the remaining distance of their day’s ride.  
   
Though she’d lowered her binoculars, by force of old habit her eyes kept sweeping the landscape ahead. She studied the river, normally narrow and slow in summer. The constant rainfalls had made it swell considerably, but not enough to cause them any trouble when passing. That was as expected. The simple but solid wooden bridge had withstood the spring floods, and should not be in danger of being swept away by summer rains, however relentless.  
   
At that moment, sunlight unexpectedly broke through the clouds, surprising her with its luminous intensity. Bright rays pierced the dreary murk, shooting through a rift opening up between the gloomy gray mountains and equally dark and brooding clouds, suddenly tinted with a shimmering golden hue. Their dense lid of threatened deluge kept the light trapped between heaven and earth, bathing the landscape in a nearly otherworldly glow. It made the rain-drenched rocks of the mountainsides shine like newly polished silver, and picked out all the vibrant shades of color in the meadows. The grassy slopes glinted with emerald as well as citrine tones, in striking contrast to the ponderous dark green of the somber pines along the valley’s sides.  
   
Her group had been closing in, and she could hear them all gasping as one, exclaiming in surprised delight. The breathtakingly sunlit majestic scenery was a beautiful sight, an unlooked-for gift of space, light, color and air.  
   
She held Thunder back. They had to allow themselves the joy of this impressive view while the brilliant light lasted. The radiance of the sun would clearly be temporary, would soon enough be smothered once more by dim and envious rain-clouds.  
   
At that moment she noticed a man sitting on a log by the river’s edge. The sunlight made his cornflower-blue shirt appear as strikingly visible as a little piece of heaven's radiance would have been, appearing on a moonless night.  
   
Intrigued and slightly mystified that she hadn’t noticed him before, she lifted her binoculars once more and adjusted the focus in order to take a closer look.  
   
He was wearing a black hat pushed back on a dark-haired head, the vivid blue shirt, jeans and boots. She couldn’t quite see whether he was soaked, from a distance he didn’t give the appearance of being drenched – but he had to be. Dressed like that, he must be absolutely icily cold…. She shuddered slightly in sympathy.  
   
He couldn’t possibly have stirred since she arrived at the edge, of that she was certain. She would definitely have caught any movement through the corner of her eye. And in fact, he looked lost in contemplation, his posture indicating thoughtful patience and silent reflection. She could read neither weariness, exhaustion nor indifference in his stance. He seemed to be exactly where he wanted to be, his chest moving with measured breaths, a pensive turn to his head, his profile under the black beat-up resistol that of a handsome and youthful-looking man.  
   
Her group of riders was catching up with her now. The first of them, a Texan traveling with two Swedish friends, halted right beside her. He grinned broadly at the spectacular view. She smiled and nodded, but didn’t speak – nor did any of the others. It was as if human voices would break the joyful spell of the moment.  
   
The sunlight warmed their faces, and they sat in silence, watching the illuminated landscape. The horses enjoyed the sudden light and warmth too, shaking manes and swishing tails, adjusting their footing enough to make their tack jangle and creak, but otherwise holding still.  
   
Their own little noises made Lisa become more aware of nature’s hush. There was a barely audible soft and gentle bubbling sound from the river, but otherwise all of creation held its breath, basking silently in the warm glow. The wind had died down. There was a calm lull in the air. A slight mist from rain evaporation hovered over the meadows, the campsite and the river below. Sun slanting through the damp haze made everything seem suffused with eerie and tranquil iridescence.  
   
Just at that moment the man by the river’s edge lifted his head. His posture changed from relaxed to alert in a heartbeat. He rose to his feet, head turned sharply, as if listening intently for something that Lisa and her group could not yet hear. There was no sound from the direction he was looking in.  
   
“He must have heard us,” she thought. “He’s wondering what the noise was, he just hasn’t pinpointed our location yet.”  
   
But she was wrong, and immediately realized as much. Upslope where the straw and grass appeared to have grow exceptionally high and lush, on the far side of the bridge, another man had appeared. He took a couple of slow and uncertain, nearly fumbling steps forward, as if he didn’t quite know where he was – or why he was there – but after a brief stop he kept moving hesitatingly and tentatively towards the river.  
   
Turning her binoculars and attention his way, Lisa saw that he was wearing a light patterned shirt and a tan jacket over the customary jeans. His short brownish-blond hair was covered by a pale, nearly white hat, and the brim shaded a handsome face. The sun caught and caressed the light colors of his attire, making him look subtly golden, as if he was walking within his own personal aura of light.  
   
The man in blue meanwhile was standing completely still, regarding the newcomer with tense rapture, one hand reaching forward and halted in mid-air, mid-motion, the other one shielding his eyes.  
   
Then he exploded into movement, tension transforming into instant action, - a dam bursting to set wildly cascading energy free. He was running, gracefully but very fast, as fast as she had ever seen a man move. In no time at all he was over the bridge, crossing the meadow, closing in on the other.  
   
His whole body language exuded immense and unspeakable joy. Those long legs danced over the grass. His arms were pumping halfway up in the air as if he was cheering, or preparing for the embrace of a lifetime. Or getting ready to fly. But strangely, he still made no sound, did not call out any greeting or name, did not cheer aloud. Neither did the other man, who had halted now, a small delighted smile playing over his lips. He was obviously regarding the man in blue intently, waiting for him to catch up. The smile turned wider and he spread his arms slightly in anticipation as the other one, closing in and not for a moment breaking stride, snatched the black hat off his head and sent it soaring into the air, flying in a high and jubilant arch.  
   
Their meeting was as strong and forceful as that of two stags in the height of mating season. In one fluid motion the man in blue knocked the other one’s hat right off his head, sent it tumbling into the green, and moved in for a passionate kiss. Their bodies connected and clung together like iron is drawn to a magnet, each letting his hands seek the shoulders, the neck and face of the other, holding on for dear life as their embrace continued, electrical in its intensity.  
   
As their kiss lengthened, they kept turning around their own axis slowly, just as the earth circles round its center. The raw and soul-baring emotions of their union were blazing so powerfully, Lisa couldn’t tear her eyes away, didn’t fully realize she was prying on an entirely private and intensely intimate moment. Their heated kiss was the purest expression of perfect and passionate love that she’d ever witnessed. 

She sat riveted, gripping reins and binoculars alike with white-knuckled fingers.  
   
The two men swayed and clung and moved together, caught in a dance as ancient as mankind, tightly locked in the head-over-heels embrace of two halves melting into one perfect whole. Sinking to their knees at last without letting go an inch of each other, they knelt for a moment before lying back completely in the sweet summer grasses. They were gone from sight.  
   
Lisa shook her head to clear her mind. That had been a reunion of two men who clearly were more than occasional lovers. She was suddenly amazed at her own lack of modesty and respect, ogling their kisses and their embrace so boldly and avidly. It was clearly none of her business. She felt her cheeks flushing with crimson heat, partly in embarrassed remorse and partly because…. What she had just seen, what those men shared - it had been _beautiful_.  
   
They had disappeared from view exactly where she had been planning to take her group riding through. It would not do to surprise them in the middle of… what they were doing. She decided to take her riders further along. Instead of traversing the meadow directly on the usual trail they would follow an alternate route, closer to the mountain and the tall pines.  
   
In any case, they would have to press on.  
   
She nudged her horse, signaling for the group to follow, and started their descent towards the bridge.  
   
The two cowboys were not visible anymore, they were entirely hidden from view. From a distance no movement could be seen up there, everything seemed peaceful, lonely, and untouched. The two of them had disappeared completely, almost as if they’d dissolved into the bright mists in the high-altitude air.  
   
And here she had been afraid they would involuntarily make a spectacle of themselves, since they clearly thought themselves free and alone here in the middle of nowhere…. It was strange. But perhaps they’d noticed the approaching group of riders and were deliberately lying low?  
   
The group on horseback moved at an easy pace down to the river and crossed the bridge.  
   
The horse hooves made loud clomping sounds on the wood, reverberating hollowly through the surrounding landscape. Lisa realized with a jolt that the man in blue had made no similar sound - no sound at all - when running across the same bridge. There had been no noise, as if he was rushing onwards so fast that his feet didn’t touch the ground, - as if he’d been flying.  
   
The cowboy lovers represented a mystery, though in all probability they were just out here camping, maybe working – allowing themselves a secret tryst. Whatever their story and their reasons, she hoped they were here simply because they wanted to, not because circumstances forced them to hide their feelings for each other from the world. The glorious connection she’d accidentally witnessed should never have to hide its beauty.    
   
Once over the bridge the group started ascending towards the pass. She took them on a circular route past the edge of the gentle sloping hill. Everyone had been encouraged by the sunlight, and they were chatting happily among themselves, remarking on the beauty of the landscape, the severity of the mountainsides, the photos they were taking now that they’d dug their cameras back out from tarp covers and packs.  
   
They did not mention or talk of the two men at all, Lisa noted with considerable wonder. Nearly making a comment about that, she stopped herself just in time. Having ogled them so shamelessly herself, she could at least show those two the belated courtesy of not also making them the topic of curious discussion, idle jokes or lascivious speculation.    
   
In that moment dense clouds descended heavily onto the mountains once more, and the sunlight was cut off as if by a pair of scissors. The mountain scenery abruptly reverted to the previous dull, gray and bleak.  
   
Riding along, she couldn’t help looking back towards the spot where she last saw the cowboys. There was nothing there now, but the energy and sheer, unbridled passion of their intense embrace seemed to have left a subtle glow over their meadow. The near-invisible haze of golden light, residues of sunlight, still lingered enticingly in the air.  
   
Then she noticed it. The wet, high grasses were completely undisturbed. There was no trace of anyone having moved up there from the bridge or down from the slopes above only minutes before. Looking behind her, she could see how their own horses in marked contrast had left a very visible trail, their recent passage parting the green as distinctly as any deep plough furrow cuts through dark soil. But the meadow remained pristine, and no tracks marred it.  
   
She shuddered slightly. This was incomprehensible. There were so many unusual things about the sight she’d seen; the unexpected light, the absence of sounds, the missing footmarks, the sheer unbelievable beauty of those two coming together as one….  
   
The chill mountain wind returned now from its little rest, nudging all of them onwards, pushing and prodding at horses and riders.   
   
Before they rode into the pass, Lisa turned in the saddle, once more lifting her binoculars, looking back down towards the river and the bridge, examining the landscape. It looked deserted. But for the blustering wind, everything was perfectly quiet. Except…. Something was making the meadow's grass stir slightly, against the wind, as if a gentle giant’s invisible hand was stroking it.  The strange movement rippled as steadily as a wave towards the old abandoned camp site. Then it was gone.  
   
Deep in thought she rode on, pondering what she’d seen, and the strangely serene and joyful feeling she was left with, despite the eerie and otherworldly strangeness of the event.  
   
It started raining again, a constant dreary drizzle that warned of discomfort and cold conditions for their upcoming camp. Behind her the group had already accepted that they’d had the day’s full ration of nature’s beauty and grandeur. Rather than reverting to miserable silence and to collectively brooding on their misguided reasons for choosing this particular vacation, a couple of the guys turned to discussing the upcoming presidential election. With the Democratic national convention only a month away, opinions on Obama and Clinton were very sharply divided – and rather loudly voiced.  
   
Lisa turned a determinedly deaf ear to it all. A strong sense of wonder and of longing filled her as she left Brokeback Mountain behind,-  for now.  
  
She knew she would return.


End file.
